


Hurricane Viktor

by LivinOnARarePair



Series: Inside A Hurricane [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivinOnARarePair/pseuds/LivinOnARarePair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only a Hurricane knows what it's like Inside a Hurricane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane Viktor

“You should know that I don’t consider this to be any sort of rookie hazing.”

“Huh?” Justin says intelligently.

“You’re worried I’m not into this,” Viktor says. “I promise I am.” He tips his head back as Justin goes back to leaving his mark on Viktor’s neck. “I really, _really_ am.” He sighs so pretty, and it’s all wrong. Justin wants him to make broken, real noises, not this perfect crap.

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?” Viktor asks, voice soft but not breaking.

“Yeah,” Justin agrees. “If you want to.”

“I do,” Viktor says. He stands and takes Justin’s hand, leading him down the hall, and it’s _wrong_. They should be pushing each other up against the walls, all desperate hands and fumbled kisses. They get to the bedroom, and Viktor closes the door behind them gently. Justin thinks about pushing him up against it, but then Viktor’s coming to stand in front of him again. Viktor kisses him softly while his hands move to Justin’s shirt, slipping buttons free with too-steady hands. Justin lets his hands fall on Viktor’s hips and goes with it for now.

When all the buttons are carefully undone, not a one broken off and sent rolling across the hardwood, Viktor slides his hands up Justin’s chest and pushes the shirt off his shoulders the same way the women in those soap operas his mother used to watch always did. When his arms are free from the shirt, Justin slides his hands beneath Viktor’s shirt and pulls it haphazardly over his head, tossing it aside. He dives back in to kiss Viktor, trying to kick up the intensity, but Viktor slows it down, keeps it languid and sweet.

Justin changes tactics and goes to push Viktor down on the bed, moving atop him roughly and crashing their mouths together. Viktor’s hands go to Justin’s shoulders, steadying him, and dammit, he’s done it again. Justin’s hands go for Viktor’s jeans, slipping the button free and sliding the zipper down with deft hands. He slips a hand inside, rubbing over Viktor’s half-hard cock through his boxers, trying to get him to do _something_ that isn’t straight out of an art film. Viktor tips his head back with a sigh, hips rocking against Justin’s hand in a perfect rhythm. Justin barely suppresses a huff of frustration.

Viktor’s hands move to Justin’s pants to return the favour, and his hands are way too steady. Justin slips his hand through the opening in Viktor’s boxers and thumbs at the head of his cock, and finally, Viktor’s hands stutter. Justin smiles a little, triumphantly and goes back to kissing Viktor. He pushes Viktor’s jeans and boxers down, then climbs off the bed to pull them down and off before shucking out of his own. He moves atop Viktor again, sliding a hand up his thigh and up to wrap around his cock, stroke him to full hardness.

“How do you want to do this?” Justin asks.

“Just like this,” Viktor says, hands running up Justin’s arms. “Face to face.”

Justin barely manages not to roll his eyes. “Okay,” he says instead and leans up to retrieve the lube and a condom from the nightstand. “Have you done this before?” he asks, sitting back on his heels between Viktor’s spread thighs. This, at least, is more wanton sex than art.

Viktor shakes his head, biting his lip. “Go easy on me, please.”

“Of course,” Justin says, slicking up his fingers. He lowers his hand between Viktor’s thighs. “You ready?”

Viktor’s still chewing on his lip, and he nods.

“This may burn a little,” Justin says and slips his first finger in.

Viktor’s eyes fall shut, face scrunched a little in discomfort. Justin drops kisses across Viktor’s hips while he waits for him to adjust. Finally, Viktor pushes back against him, and Justin starts to work his finger in Viktor. Viktor moves tentatively with him, and Justin tilts his head, considering.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks.

“Just did,” Viktor says with a small smile.

Justin does roll his eyes this time. Fuck Jordy for teaching Viktor the lamest joke in the book. “Are you always like this?” Justin asks.

“Like what?” Viktor asks, looking confused.

“So . . . Reserved,” Justin says. “It feels like you’re holding back.” Viktor doesn’t say anything, so Justin goes on. “You’re just . . . It feels like you’re something out of a . . . an art film or something. What’s it going to take to get you to loosen up and just . . . Let go?”

Viktor smiles at that. “A really good fuck.”

A smile spreads itself across Justin’s face. “Is that a challenge?”

Viktor shrugs with a smug little smile. “Maybe.”

“Oh, you are on,” Justin says. He looks down briefly, then back up. “You ready for another?”

Viktor nods, and Justin dribbles a little more lube on his fingers and eases two in. Viktor’s hips stutter at the burn, and Justin leans up to lick over the head of his cock to distract him. Viktor sighs and shivers, and Justin starts to move his fingers back and forth, scissoring them gently. He takes the head of Viktor’s cock into his mouth and sucks him down just enough to tease while he works him open. When he feels Viktor’s loose enough for another, he starts teasing at Viktor’s rim with the tip of the third finger until Viktor says, “I’m ready. Do it.”

Justin eases his third finger in slowly. He remembers from his own first time bottoming that the third finger is the one that really burns and feels weird and brings the realisation of _there’s about to be a dick in there_. He pulls off of Viktor’s cock to run a hand up and down his thigh instead.

“I know it feels weird. You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Viktor says. He shifts his hips, trying to get comfortable, and then he looses a moan that is barely human. “Fuck. Do that again.”

Justin grins and does it again, nudging up against the same place, skirting the edge of Viktor’s prostate before pressing up against it directly. Viktor moans loudly, and his hips come up off the bed.

“There we go,” Justin murmurs absently. He continues to tease at Viktor’s prostate until he sees a bead of precome slip from the slit of Viktor’s cock. At that he slides his fingers out. Viktor makes a displeased sound at the loss, but breaks off when he sees Justin rolling the condom on. He watches raptly while Justin slicks himself up. Justin positions himself between Viktor’s legs and looks up at him. “You ready?”

Viktor nods, eyes still trained on Justin’s cock. “You’re . . . .”

“What?” Justin asks, looking down at his own cock. “Circumcised? Yeah, it’s an American thing.”

Viktor continues to stare.

“You’re starting to make me feel self-conscious here, man,” Justin says.

Viktor looks up at him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Justin says. “Now, are you ready to do this?”

Viktor nods again.

“This is probably going to hurt,” Justin says apologetically.

“It’s okay,” Viktor says. “I trust you.”

With that unshielded honesty ringing in his ears, Justin starts to push in. The head slips in, and Viktor hisses at the feeling, so Justin stops, lets him adjust. He waits for Viktor’s nod, then runs a hand up his thigh. “I need you to relax for me. It’ll make this easier,” he says and waits for Viktor to relax around him before pushing the rest of the way in.

When his hips are fitted snugly against Viktor’s, he stops, letting Viktor adjust to the feeling, and leans down to kiss him softly. “Whenever you’re ready,” he mutters. It takes a while, but Viktor finally starts to roll his hips experimentally and says, “Okay. You can move.”

Justin does, keeping it slow and easy for Viktor. Viktor matches his rhythm, and it’s good. Usually Justin likes it fast and rough, but this is good, too. Discomfort gradually leaves Viktor, and he seems to start to really enjoy it. He tips his head back with little sighs and hitched breaths, and Justin remembers the challenge, wondering how to get Viktor to let go without going all out and just _fucking_ him. Viktor answers his question without a word when he wraps his leg around Justin’s waist, urging him in that much deeper and changing the angle so Justin’s fucking him just so, and . . .

Viktor tosses his head back with a guttural moan that Justin wants to hear again and again. He keeps with the angle, hitting Viktor’s prostate with every thrust, and Viktor goes kind of wild, making sounds Justin’s never heard before, hands coming down to clutch at Justin’s ass, urging him in deeper, and Justin fucks him just that much harder, and that’s it.

Viktor comes, back arching off the bed, shoving his hips against Justin’s. He moans, low and from his chest, as Justin fucks him through it. He comes down off the high, and Justin comes inside him with Viktor’s overwhelmed little noises in his ears. When he finishes, he pulls out and drops onto the bed beside Viktor.

“So. Was that good enough?” he asks, cocky.

“It was alright,” Viktor says.

Justin squawks indignantly, and Viktor laughs at him. Then Viktor rolls over and fits himself to Justin’s side, and Justin wraps an arm around him.

“Thank you,” Viktor says quietly.

“Any time, buddy,” Justin says, dropping a kiss to the top of Viktor’s head.

Viktor falls asleep soon after that, and Justin soon follows.


End file.
